


The Witch and the Warden

by Grushenka



Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/F, Feels, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Non-Canon Relationship, Romance, Slash
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-01
Updated: 2018-06-12
Packaged: 2019-03-25 16:25:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13838595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grushenka/pseuds/Grushenka
Summary: One-shot-turned multi-chapter story that came to mind when considering that Morrigan's ritual could be an act of kindness, not manipulation.





	1. The Witch's Arms

**Author's Note:**

> Find me at [ @igrushenka](https://igrushenka.tumblr.com/)

The stillness of the night was unwelcome. Morrigan tried to distract herself with tending to her fire but the mindless task did no good. It was late and the others were fast asleep, save for the Antivan who had offered to take the first watch. She still couldn’t fathom how Elissa could have even _considered_ sparing his life, she had thought the girl naive, but an _assassin_? That was weeks ago yet still Morrigan hesitated to sleep under his shifty gaze, she had seen the way he looked at her. Admittedly, the way he looked at everyone, but that was apparently part of his self-proclaimed charm. Tonight there were other thoughts that chased away any chance of rest. 

She glanced around to make sure there was no one near her. Zevran was a faint shadow in the distance, she was glad that he was posted as far away from her as possible. Insufferable man, always leering at Elissa and propositioning her. He took advantage of his benefactor’s generosity, if it were Morrigan’s choice he would be merely another corpse to toss onto the pile. 

Her long, pale hands reached into a rough leather sack and withdrew a glittering object that shone in the faint light of the campfire. The sight of it enveloped her in a warmth that overwhelmed her, she recoiled at the sensation and yet couldn’t stop her slender fingers from sliding over the cool metal of the golden mirror. 

She had reluctantly joined Elissa’s company at her mother’s behest, certain that the high-bred noble girl would expel her as soon as she had guided them out of the forest. She had never in her wildest imaginings thought that she would gain a _friend_. 

A faint smile tugged at her lips as she remembered Elissa presenting her with the mirror, deep underground in the royal quarters of Orzammar. It was mere days ago, but the memory was so vivid, so fresh in her mind. 

\----------------------------------------------

 

“I...I do not know what to say…” Morrigan faltered. She held the mirror in her hands as if in disbelief that it could truly exist.

Elissa smiled and gave a light, airy laugh. It was a sound Morrigan had come to cherish, Elissa’s voice had a musical quality that reminded her of the birds of the forest. Her long, blonde hair was woven in intricate braids that were knotted at the nape of her neck. A few young concubines had insisted on doing their hair while they were guests of the newly crowned king Bhelen. Elissa, agreeable as ever, had graciously accepted the offer. Morrigan, of course, had scoffed and refused to allow them to so much as touch her. 

“I...how did you find this...” Morrigan glanced back down at the mirror, dumbstruck by such a thoughtful gift. She had nearly forgotten that she had even told Elissa that silly story about her exploits as a young girl in the Korcari Wilds. 

“One of the traders here had it, it caught my eye while I was walking by.” Elissa was pleased to see the tiny furrow that came to Morrigan’s brow whenever she was truly confused by something. 

“But I do not recall you stopping by any stall, and we have not left one another’s company since we came here…” The furrow deepened.

“I _may_ have distracted you with a nug…” Elissa hesitated and flashed the mage an innocent smile. 

“I...what...oh, _you!_ ” Morrigan sputtered. She had been absolutely _infuriated_ when Elissa tasked her with catching one of those disgusting rodents, she didn’t care who or what needed them, it was an insult to her ability! Alistair was of course taking no small pleasure in mocking her while she darted back and forth attempting to corral the impudent creature, she had seriously considered slipping one of Zevran’s poisons into his drink later that night. Admittedly, she had not noticed that Elissa was absent in all of the commotion. 

“Please don't be cross, Morrigan, I wanted it to be a surprise!” Elissa reached forward to clasp Morrigan’s slender wrists with her tanned hands. “Besides, would you prefer I be forced to explain the mirror to Alistair and Wynne?”

Morrigan’s nose wrinkled. “Of course not.” She sighed and shrugged her shoulders. “I suppose, ‘twas a clever enough ruse.” 

Elissa stepped in a bit closer and Morrigan became acutely aware of the sensation of Elissa’s warm hands on her skin. They were alone in a royal guest chamber, it was luxurious by dwarven standards but still quite severe in all of its grand _stoniness_. 

“Oh...I’m sorry…” Elissa stammered and quickly withdrew her hands from Morrigan’s arms. A flush of pink came to her cheeks and she stumbled on her words. “ I didn’t mean to, ah...I forgot…” She kicked herself, how many times had Morrigan complained about how uncomfortable touching made her? Especially hand-holding, it seemed particularly repugnant to the mage. 

To her surprise, there was none of the customary harshness in Morrigan’s golden eyes. Instead, there was a vulnerability that twisted Elissa’s stomach in knots. The mage looked back down at the mirror, then up again. In a flash the tenderness was gone, vanished as quickly as it had come.

“You must wish something in return, to have given a gift such as this.” Morrigan’s voice had the usual guarded tone. Her full mouth set in a firm line and still her brows were furrowed. She looked feline in the dim light of the room, her eyes shone as bright as the finest topaz, her skin was luminous and the scarlet robes draped across her chest looked nearly black. 

“No,” Elissa replied, her voice soft. “You have given me more than you know, Morrigan. I...I don’t think I could have gotten this far without you.” 

The mage’s skin prickled, the air felt electrified. She couldn’t help but notice Elissa’s clear blue eyes, eyes that had no guile, no secrets behind them. Her high cheekbones and slim nose dusted with freckles, her sun-kissed skin littered with hard-earned scars and marks. Her shapely, long neck reminiscent of a doe, the strong shoulders that were normally clad in armor, now covered in a simple linen dress. She was a powerful girl, a powerful _woman_. 

“I...I suppose I should say thank you,” Morrigan stammered. She didn’t know what to think, she had never received an unsolicited gift, especially not one that did not come laden with expectations of reciprocity. 

She reached out a hand and grasped for Elissa’s wrist. She could see the surprise in the girl’s eyes, it was not unwarranted, Morrigan had no use for such silly displays of affection. But in this moment, here, it seemed...appropriate. 

“Know that I will value your friendship, Elissa, even if I may not always deserve it.” Morrigan’s throat caught. A strange fire burned in her belly, she wanted to touch Elissa more, she wanted to feel Elissa’s skin on her skin. The sudden flash of desire caught her by surprise, she immediately tried to suppress it but the sharp focus of Elissa’s eyes on her merely heaped wood on the coals. 

“And I will value _you_ , always,” Elissa whispered. _Maker, she is beautiful…_ She fought the urge to reach out and touch Morrigan’s smooth cheeks, trace a thumb over her berry-colored lips, trail kisses down her regal neck and collarbones. The mage’s robes exposed her pale skin and Elissa could barely keep herself from glancing down at her half-bared breasts and soft hips. 

Morrigan’s pulse began to speed, she could see Elissa’s eyes dart down towards her chest and torso but it didn’t offend her as it usually would. Instead her own eyes roved over Elissa’s long arms, her taut waist accentuated by a simple sash, her firm breasts tied down with a simple band Morrigan had seen countless times before. But now she wanted to know what was underneath it, she wanted to explore with her tongue, with her teeth.. 

Elissa was a pretty, well-bred girl, countless battles had hardened her spirit and her body but Morrigan still felt a strange protectiveness for her. It began when Flemeth rescued her from Ostagar, after the sleepless nights Morrigan spent at Elissa’s bedside. Elissa was a polite girl, nothing like the superstitious dolt that she traveled with, she treated Morrigan and her mother with respect and gratitude. Respect, that was what Morrigan convinced herself it was, the heavy sensation that had begun to grow in her chest. Whenever Elissa would come to her for counsel, when Elissa would laugh at Morrigan’s barbed insults, the first time they exchanged childhood stories. She never thought it could become like this, her mind screamed at her to stop, to run out of the room, but her body kept her still. She...cared for Elissa, more than she would like to admit. 

“Morrigan…” Elissa’s voice was unusually thick. The sound of it made Morrigan’s stomach clench, her breath caught in her chest. She took a hesitant step towards Elissa, they stood close enough that she could feel the heat radiating from her. 

A loud knocking at the door broke through the silence. Elissa’s eyes didn’t move from Morrigan, her cheeks were flushed and her lips parted slightly. Desire raced through Morrigan’s body, a tingling sensation that touched every fiber of her being. How could a woman who had mere days ago jumped onto the back of brood mother and hacked off its bloated, gruesome head now be standing before her, all softness and gentle words?

The sound of Alistair’s voice snapped them both back to reality. Morrigan quickly pulled her hand back from Elissa’s arm and Elissa drew herself up straight. 

“Are you coming for dinner? King Bhelen won’t appreciate you being late for his victory celebration!” Alistair shouted through the heavy door. 

Elissa smoothed down her simple dress, her blue eyes now cast down at the ground and her cheeks burning red with embarrassment. She felt ashamed, this wasn’t the first time she had let her attraction for another woman show and those moments of weakness had ruined a number of friendships. The mirror was genuinely a gift, Morrigan deserved to be valued and cherished just the same as all of her companions, there was no ulterior motive involved. She hoped Morrigan didn’t think that she was trying to “woo” her. _Maker, I’m such an idiot._

“In a moment!” Elissa shouted back. She heard Alistair’s loud huff and the shifting of heavy feet. 

Morrigan hadn’t moved, her eyes were focused on the wall behind Elissa’s head and she was lost in her thoughts. The mirror was still held firmly in her right hand. She was irritated that Alistair had interrupted them, but she also felt relieved. As her mind cleared she could see the danger of giving in to such impulses. 

Elissa moved to open the door and was greeted by a clearly impatient Alistair, his arms were folded over his chest and he gave Elissa a curious glance. The girl’s cheeks were flushed and Morrigan was standing like a statue in the middle of the room. 

“Is...everything alright?” he asked cautiously. “I feel like I’ve missed something.”

“Yes, of course,” Elissa replied quickly. “I was just trying to make myself presentable.”

“With great success, I might add.” Alistair grinned and held out his elbow towards her. “May I?”

Elissa laughed and entwined her arm with his. “Of course.” She loved Alistair like a brother, they had been through so much together. They had both lost everything, _everyone_ that mattered to them. Except each other, and they clung to that companionship tightly. 

She glanced back at Morrigan. “Coming?” she asked. Her voice caught when Morrigan turned towards her, the burn of her amber gaze made her arm reflexively tighten around Alistair’s. 

Morrigan couldn’t help but notice how well suited Elissa and Alistair were for one another. She had assumed that would eventually turn into some sort of romantic affair, but as far as she could tell it was a purely platonic arrangement. The two of them had sprung straight from the pages of Ferelden’s legends, both tall, blonde-haired, blue-eyed warriors. A bastard prince, a tragic heroine vowing vengeance for the deaths of her family, it was nauseating. If she didn’t know better she might think it was jealousy’s arrows that stung her heart. 

She scowled at Alistair. “Yes, if the two of you can refrain from making me ill.” 

Relief washed over Elissa, she hoped that they could continue as things were. If Morrigan was sniping at Alistair, it was a good sign. She tried to press the memory of Morrigan’s touch out of her mind, she couldn’t let her own selfish desires get in the way of the greater task at hand. Not when they were so close to the end. 

 

\-----------------------------------

 

Morrigan had never had a friend before, she had companionship from the beasts of the forest but it was certainly not anything comparable to...this. There were a few dalliances here and there when she did venture out of the Wilds into the nearby towns, but again, even human companionship was purely a matter of self-interest. 

Elissa considered Morrigan’s wishes, asked for her opinions, listened to her stories and remembered small details that Morrigan herself had forgotten. The girl did not attempt to hide her deep affection for the idiot would-be king she called her ‘brother’, or for the others in the group for that matter. Elissa’s inability to decline even the most trivial of errands for the sake of the ‘general welfare’ was beyond aggravating, but still Morrigan could not deny her deep respect for the Warden. The kindness of Elissa’s heart would be a liability for Morrigan, but for a Grey Warden it was necessary. Otherwise how could she ever sacrifice…

Morrigan’s hand clenched the mirror tightly. She knew what Elissa surely did not, she knew the price that a Warden must pay to slay the Archdemon. More importantly, more _painfully_ , she knew that it was a price that Elissa would not hesitate to pay. The girl was consumed with bringing honor to her family, she had once confided in Morrigan that her father’s dying wish was for her to become a Grey Warden and survive to see the Cousland line continued. Elissa imagined that fighting the Blight successfully would do just that, it would serve to immortalize her family’s name in the annals of history. Her faith in ultimate justice was misguided, of course, but Elissa was from a different world than she. The world of teyrns and templars and honor and duty, the world Alistair avoided and Wynne prattled on about endlessly. The world that branded her _apostate_.

Morrigan felt a sudden flash of insecurity. It struck every now and again, when she allowed herself to consider the affection she held for Elissa, she imagined herself very small compared to the grand task that faced her friend. She couldn’t deny that she was flattered by Elissa’s attentions, the girl was charming and seemingly undaunted by Morrigan’s sharp tongue and lack of social graces. Yet, she thought it unwise for Elissa to distract herself from their greater purpose. 

She reached into a sack and pulled out an inky black leather-bound journal. Flemeth’s grimoire.

It had to be here, somewhere, hidden in the pages of scribblings and ancient spells. She would save Elissa, she wouldn’t stand by and let her die, not now. Not ever.


	2. The Witch's Arms

Only a teeny bit smutty. 

 

\----------------------------------------

“Alistair’s furious with me,” Elissa mumbled. She swatted at a fly as it flew past her face. It was ridiculously warm inside Arl Eamon’s estate, hot, dry winds from the south had ushered in an early summer. 

“No doubt, the man-child surely wishes to evade both his bloodright and that frightful woman.”Morrigan stood with Elissa in the guest quarters of the estate, Elissa had sought her out soon after the Landsmeet. The witch sighed and leaned against the cold stone wall behind her. She waved a hand dismissively and her dark eyebrows knitted together in a scowl. “You _did_ grant him Loghain’s senseless execution, he should be thanking you, not sniveling about his responsibilities as heir to the throne.” 

The flash of pain in Elissa’s face made her regret her hasty words. It was true, in her opinion the Blight was no time for executing experienced generals, but she knew how much Loghain’s betrayal at Ostagar had haunted Elissa. 

“I...I know you are right, Morrigan, but I cannot say I am sad that Loghain is dead.” Elissa’s blue eyes were fixed on something in the distance, some memory that Morrigan couldn’t reach. A silence passed between them, punctuated only by the shuffling of a patrol of soldiers passing by the closed door. 

Morrigan hesitated before breaking the stillness. “It matters not, Loghain is gone now, and I presume Arl Howe will follow soon behind?” 

Elissa’s eyes met’s Morrigan’s, the mage held her gaze with her usual calm, disinterested demeanor. 

“It is so wrong, Morrigan, for me to want vengeance for what he did to my family?” Elissa voice was barely a whisper, she turned her head towards the window of the far wall and bit her lip as she fought back tears. Her father bleeding out on the floor of the storeroom, her mother’s screams, her nephew and sister-in-law’s corpses, they were still fresh in her mind. The thought of Arl Howe beneath her heel, his duplicitous tongue sliced from his jaw with her own sword, it pleased her more than she would like. She wanted to make him suffer, but some part of her knew that nothing she could inflict on him would change the past. It would soothe her heart for the moment, but then once the thrill of the bloodshed passed, she would be left just as bereft of kin as ever. 

“I am not concerned with what is right or wrong, Elissa, but I am rather preoccupied with the possibility of an Archdemon destroying the whole of Ferelden.” Morrigan’s amber eyes grew softer, her brows sank and she pressed her full lips together. “Please…” she hesitated, “do not allow your anger to blind you, that is all I ask.”

Elissa let out a slow, controlled breath. “You’re right, Morrigan.” The young Grey Warden turned back to face the mage. “You...you are always right.”

Morrigan snorted. “Your flattery is most pleasing, my friend, but also most unnecessary.” The witch leaned onto her staff and peered into the empty fireplace. Elissa took a few steps backwards and sat down on the bed behind her, her tanned hands reached to unbuckle the straps of her armor. 

“How do you keep yourself from being overpowered by your anger?” she asked Morrigan as she pulled off her breastplate and set it beside her. “Once you discovered Flemeth’s plan for you, how did you stop yourself from being paralyzed with grief, despair, fear, anger, _anything_?” 

Morrigan paused before answering. She turned her gaze from the stone heart and found herself distracted by the thin fabric of Elissa’s undershirt. Her wide, guileless blue eyes. The color of a mid-afternoon summer sky, a deep, rich blue that were more striking than any she had seen before. Morrigan felt her breath catch as she peered down at her friend, her best friend, her _only_ friend.

“Because I wish to survive,” Morrigan replied after a few moments of hesitation. She rubbed a thumb thoughtfully over her staff. “I did not trust Flemeth, therefore I am not surprised by either her deception or her selfish aims.” 

“Surely you can’t mean that you never trusted a woman you considered to be your own mother?” 

“It is not...pleasant, to know what her true intentions are, but I cannot dwell on it.”

“Oh, Morrigan…” Elissa sighed. “How I wish I could have half of your sense.”

“Sense?” Morrigan replied, her berry-colored lips fighting back a smirk. “I have been called many things, but sensible has never been one of them.”

Elissa laughed, and Morrigan turned back to face her. She was glad to see the tension in her friend’s shoulders and face relax. “You are a remarkable woman, Morrigan,” Elissa said, her smile fading into a soft, affectionate gaze. “How often I thank the Maker that I found you.”

“Found _me_?” Morrigan protested. “I will have you know that it was _I_ who tracked you and your friends as you bumbled through _my_ forest!” 

“Then I am glad that you found me,” Elissa replied softly, unfazed by Morrigan’s attempts to dodge the compliment. She savored the blush that crept into Morrigan’s pale cheeks. 

“I…” Morrigan faltered, but Elissa held up a hand to interrupt her.

“I don’t expect you to feel the same, Morrigan, I have no expectations of you.” Her eyes grew deeper, her expression almost sad. “Please, just let me feel what I do for you, while…” Her voice caught. “While I still can.” 

Elissa’s words struck Morrigan like an arrow, her honesty was as brutal as it was innocent. The finality in them and the darkness they portended. Elissa’s own acceptance of her fate, of her mortality, contrasted sharply with Morrigan’s refusal to submit to any destiny but one she chose for herself. 

“Elissa, you musn’t speak like this,” Morrigan demanded, her own voice cracking with an unwelcome emotion. “I have been searching, I believe I have found a way…”

“No, Morrigan, I don’t think you understand,” Elissa interrupted, her voice wavering. “I…” she bit her lip. “I feel for you, more than a friend, I have not wanted to tell you but we are so close to the end, I just…” Elissa’s eyes began to fill with tears. “I love you Morrigan, and I won’t die without you knowing it.”

Morrigan’s full lips dropped apart, she was shocked by Elissa’s unexpected confession. Not an unwelcome one, by any means, but this sort of personal entanglement was foreign to her. Her own feelings were beyond her understanding, they seemed a hindrance at best and a threat at worst. “Elissa...how…” she croaked, her voice cracking with a sudden surge of anxiety. 

“There was no right time to come out and say it, I wanted to tell you in Orzammar but Alistair interrupted us, I know I should have kept it to myself but I can’t hide it any longer.” Tears began to spill down Elissa’s cheeks, they slipped from her softly angled jaw onto the threadbare fabric covering her chest. “Please forgive me Morrigan, please,” she begged, her expression pleading. “I can’t lose you, not now.” 

Morrigan’s amber eyes glowed with an emotion that Elissa couldn’t decipher. Tears continued to flow, Elissa didn’t even attempt to hold them back anymore. What dignity did she have left to preserve now? She was an idiot, in a moment of weakness and despair she had opened her big mouth and scared away the only person she wanted near to her. Morrigan had only mentioned male mates, in rather plain terms, not to mention she had brushed off Leliana’s advances with clear repugnance. _Stupid, stupid, stupid,_ she berated herself. 

The fear that gripped Morrigan’s heart was numbed by the sight of Elissa’s pain. A strange feeling swept over her, a desire to brush the tears from her friend’s eyes, to press her lips against Elissa’s soft, damp cheeks. Elissa’s words rendered her blind, stumbling aimlessly down a path she had never traveled, her mind told her she should leave but her heart kept her plunging headlong into darkness. 

“Elissa,” she whispered, her voice almost inaudible. She stepped forward, quickly closing the distance between them. Elissa looked up at her, her beautiful face contorted with grief and pain. Morrigan reached out a pale hand and swept it over Elissa’s smooth, flaxen hair, then traced her fingertips across Elissa’s regal cheekbones and jaw. Her skin was so soft, she could hear Elissa’s breath catch as her fingers cupped her chin. 

“You don’t have to do this Morrigan, I shouldn’t have said anything…” Elissa protested but was interrupted by Morrigan grabbing her chin firmly. 

“You are a fool Elissa, a beautiful, charming fool, but a fool nonetheless.”

Elissa glanced up at her, surprised. Tears stained her tanned cheeks, her blue eyes were red-rimmed. 

“Yes, hopefully my admission will bring about an end to your obnoxious insistence that you have simply _no_ idea why Bann Teagan, Alistair, Zevran, or any other living, breathing male in the realms trails after you like a dog,” Morrigan said pointedly and arched her dark eyebrows. 

“Well I am the leader, so you know, everyone follows me, technically,” Elissa protested but was interrupted by a loud sigh from Morrigan. The mage looked down at her, her topaz eyes burning with a fire Elissa had never seen before. 

Elissa’s mind raced to process what was unfolding between them, she had expected anger, disgust, horror, some form of rejection. Never in a million years had she considered that Morrigan could accept her feelings, or maybe even _share_ in them. Morrigan took a step back to lean her staff against the stone mantle, then drew up beside Elissa and sat down on the bed. Elissa turned towards Morrigan and was surprised by the softness in her friends face. 

“I have struggled against these...feelings…” Morrigan began, her voice catching. Her brows knitted together and her face grew more serious. “You are a Grey Warden, I am an apostate, the daughter of Flemeth, you cannot compromise yourself with foolish entanglements. You know this is madness.” 

“No, Morrigan,” Elissa replied, her hands reaching over to wrap over Morrigan’s. She clasped them together in hers and brought them to her chest. “I know what I feel, and I know what I want. I don’t know what tomorrow will bring, but I refuse to live a lie for another moment.”

“What will the others say? Alistair? You know the manchild despises me enough as it is!”

“Why would I care?” Elissa replied with an crooked grin. 

Morrigan pulled her hands from Elissa’s grasp and let out an exasperated sigh. “You are impossible.” 

“I don’t expect anything of you, Morrigan,” Elissa said as she began to fumble with the buckles of the armor that girded her legs. “I’m not going to force you to do anything you don’t want to do.”

Morrigan watched with a scowl as Elissa’s calloused fingers struggled with the straps. “Let me help you,” she said and swatted Elissa’s hands away. “Stand up, it’s easier that way,” she directed and motioned for Elissa to come to her feet. 

Elissa rose to her feet and Morrigan grabbed her hips and turned her to face the far wall. Cool fingertips worked at the straps that covered the back of her calf, then moved up her leg to the sensitive skin of the inside of her thigh. Morrigan deftly removed the heavy armor, then moved to focus on the other legs. Her eyes roved over Elissa’s long, slender torso and softly curved hips and thighs. She worked more slowly on the other leg, letting her fingers brush over the thin material of Elissa’s leggings, when she moved to the strap over her upper thigh she could feel Elissa flinch as her fingers slid over delicate skin. Heat began to build in Morrigan, she could feel a tightness and pressure deep within her, she wanted to fight against it but she couldn’t, not anymore. Elissa’s leggings came to the tops of her legs and were attached to her waist belt, but Morrigan knew that beneath the long tunic there were only smallclothes. This thought drove her nearly mad with desire. 

She unbuckled the last strap and loosened the piece of armor, it fell to the ground but Morrigan’s hand was still on Elissa’s leg. Elissa remained standing before her, motionless, her back rising and falling with heavy breaths. Morrigan could see a sliver of bare flesh peeking out from above the wool legging, her fingers slid up and her other hand slipped under the tunic. Her hand met a firm, supple ass, and her fingertips continued their exploring up Elissa’s thigh. Elissa gasped as Morrigan brushed against the fabric of her smallclothes. 

The feel of the heat between Elissa’s legs and the dampness of the fabric that covered her sex were enough to exorcise the last vestiges of Morrigan’s doubts. She pulled Elissa back towards her, then yanked her onto the bed beside her. Elissa let out a clear, ringing laugh as she feel back on the soft mattress, her long blonde hair spilled around her face. Morrigan reached back to unlace her robes, she let the dark fabric fall to her waist and expose her breasts. Her hand slipped to to undo the buckle of her belt, and in a few seconds she was stripped down to her smallclothes. Elissa was mesmerized by the sight, she laid back on the bed with her arms under her head, frozen as she watched Morrigan disrobe. The witch gazed at her with heavy-lidded, burning amber eyes, their heat coursed through Elissa. 

Suddenly two slender legs straddled either side of her and cool hands were slipping under her back and pulling her tunic over her head. She sat up to allow Morrigan to remove it from her, and as the fabric brushed over her head she found herself faced with two beautiful, tear-shaped breasts with firm pink nipples. Without hesitation she grasped them and pressed her mouth against the soft, pale skin. Her tongue traced circles around Morrigan’s nipple, then flicked it gently. She was pleased to feel Morrigan squirm beneath her touch and she looked up at Morrigan’s face. The witch’s cheeks were flushed with a deep red, and her berry-colored lips were parted. 

“Elissa…” she murmured as the warrior traced kisses up her chest. Elissa grasped Morrigan’s neck and pulled her towards her, their lips met in a soft, tender kiss. 

“Are you sure...are you ok with this,” Elissa mumbled between kisses, her voice ragged with desire. 

“Elissa, I mean this in the best way possible…” Morrigan said as she slid herself down further into Elissa’s lap, allowing her breasts to brush against Elissa’s. 

“Shut up.”


End file.
